<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Warmth by Armos</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29596743">Warmth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armos/pseuds/Armos'>Armos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Getting Together, Hannibal kidnaps will, Intimacy, It's cold- lemme warm you up ;), Love Confessions, M/M, Will burns all of Hannibal's clothes, flash fic #006, for l'amour</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:48:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29596743</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armos/pseuds/Armos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will stood on the shore of the beach, icy air whipping against his face, as he doused the bonfire with as much flammable liquid as he could possibly find in that stupid house that stupid fucking Hannibal had abducted him to.  Needless to say, he was a little less than thrilled with the man at the moment- consequences of his actions be damned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hannibal Flash Fic #006</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Warmth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Will stood on the shore of the beach, icy air whipping against his face, as he doused the bonfire with as much flammable liquid as he could possibly find in that stupid house that stupid fucking Hannibal had </span>
  <em>
    <span>abducted him to.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Needless to say, he was a little less than thrilled with the man at the moment- consequences of his actions be damned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Little over two weeks ago Will had gone to Hannibal’s home with intents to betray the man and turn him in- give Jack his catch in the bag and wash his hands of the FBI forever.  He had considered that, possibly, maybe, Hannibal might kill him for, inessence, breaking his black little shriveled heart.  Instead, when he got there, he found a dying Alana outfront, a missing Jack (later he was informed the man had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>bleeding out in the goddamn pantry of all places</span>
  </em>
  <span>), a very alive Abigail, and a healthy dosage of sedatives injected straight into his bloodstream through a vein in his neck.  He woke up in shitty, cold, frigid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not-America</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  No, he’s now a goddamn unwilling citizen of Bergen, Norway living in some giant rich person custom-planned </span>
  <em>
    <span>Norweigan oceanside manor.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just last week Hannibal confessed originally planning for Italy.  He wanted Will to “see where he became a man” in his beloved city of Florence.  Then he said some other stuff Will tuned out once the knowledge Hannibal forsook them to frozen Scandinavia instead without explaining a goddamn thing took root in his brain.  By the time Will tuned back into reality, overcome with a simmering rage of a very wet cat, it was too an expectant Hannibal clearly waiting for a reply.  Will merely told him, as eloquently as he could manage, that he could suck on his shriveled dick and balls since they would never deem to distend from his icicle of a body ever again.  Hannibal had merely sighed and told him it wasn’t that cold out, “a mere 45 degrees Fahrenheit by your American standards- it only feels colder because of the wind factor,” and then Will resolutely decided to burn all the man’s clothing in a fit of pique so he could feel the true chill of the</span>
  <em>
    <span> fucking wind factor</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of hiding under his three-pieces suits made of high quality wool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will just hadn’t considered…. How cold it would be outside when he decided to do this.  The heat from his blood boiling under his skin kept him warm for about five seconds before the immediate regret of not bundling up properly set in but it was too late to back out now.  He only hoped the clothing acted as sufficient kindling in this wind to light the bonfire.  It was rather wet outside.  He hoped the wood wasn’t ruined before he had a chance to light it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took out his pilfered zippo, found hiding in one of the kitchen drawers, and lit the pile ablaze.  Thankfully, it lit wonderfully and angrily.  He basked in the warmth of the fire and his vicious victory for a few moments before the reality of what he’d done set in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal killed people for as small of infractions as accidentally scuffing his shoes.  Will just set the man’s extremely expensive closet on fire.  He even burned the man’s shoes.  He practically signed his own death warrant with a heart over the i in his name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was too late to take it back now.  Might as well enjoy it and hope he came out of the impending fight for his life, well, alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Approximately a minute later he heard the door leading to the beachfront slam closed and an accented voice calling out his name.  It was muffled by the wind but Will heard it loud and clear.  His already tense and freezing muscles tensed further and he got ready for the inevitable stand-off.  He only hoped Hannibal killed him quick and sweet rather than drag out the torture as he was wont to do.  He hadn’t even thought far enough ahead to grab anything remotely weapon-like- just the zippo- before he started dragging wooden logs out to the sandy shore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only life-preserving thing that had gone through his mind while enacting his plan was being quiet enough to sneak the man’s clothing outside while he was holed up in his study drawing or reading or whatever the fuck he was doing when he zoned out into space for upwards of hours at a time.  Will and Abigail had made a game of piling things on top of the man and seeing how much stuff they could lay on his prone form before he came back to the land of the living.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now the devil himself was walking in the freezing weather, properly bundled up with the coat, scarf, and gloves Will missed hanging by the door, </span>
  <em>
    <span>because of course he was</span>
  </em>
  <span>, towards the giant inferno of his expensive Burberry and Dolce&amp;Gabbana.  Will was fucked.  Truly and utterly fucked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will?,” Hannibal inquired, coming to a stop next to the man.  “What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was this his plan of torture?  Making Will confess his sins before gutting him on the beach and feeding his leftover body parts to Abigail for dinner?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I lit a bonfire,” came his steady reply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I can see that.  Why, exactly?  And, more importantly, how?  We don’t have any form of available kindling to light something of this mass within the manor at the moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, we did, Hannibal.  I used your clothes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beat passed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will cleared his suddenly tight throat, body already tensing to run given the chance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said, I used your clothes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal stared at him, face devoid of any feeling.  His face was brightly lit due to the fire dancing merrily next to them.  The man didn’t even blink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How much of my clothing are you burning, if I may ask?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, well…. All of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m going to have to ask you to accompany me back inside.  It’s quite cold and you’re not wearing a proper coat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will blinked at him, not quite comprehending.  Hannibal wanted to kill him inside, did he?  Probably in front of Abigail, use him as a lesson of sorts.  Maybe they’d mount his body on the wall as an extra reminder not to fuck with the man as Will had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will made it as far as turning in the opposite direction and exactly one foot raised to sprint across the beach before a strong, iron-clad grip grabbed the back of his shirt collar and dragged him back to the house.  He tried to unbutton his shirt enough to wiggle out of on the trek back but by the time it was hanging open and the skin on his stomach was a bright red from the cold he was being shoved through the open door.  Hannibal merely raised a pale eyebrow at him, seemingly amused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone is eager.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eager?  To get murdered?  Well, maybe…. No!  No, he didn’t want to get murdered and mounted on the wall, actually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s warm you up, shall we?  Abigail is still out in town with her new little college friends.  We have the place to ourselves for once,”  Hannibal smiled at him.  He degloved and rubbed his hands together before placing them directly onto Will’s reddened skin.  Will hissed.  It was too much, too hot, too fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not mad I burned your clothes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said, you’re not mad I burned your clothes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would I be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, okay, Will got it.  He was trying to lull Will into a false sense of security before he striked.  Make Will relax </span>
  <em>
    <span>and then </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d kill him.  Will narrowed his eyes, suspicious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t you be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to be angry, Will?,”  Hannibal asked calmly.  He didn’t look up from where he was still petting Will across his chest and stomach, unnervingly concentrated on his task.  Probably envisioning the organs he was going to harvest.  “Do you want me to react in anger and aggression to paint the picture of an abusive kidnapper, whisking you away to be tortured and mailed back piece by piece to Jack’s doorstep?  A victor of the game, at last?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There it was.  He was angry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you are angry,” Will asked, feeling some simmering of triumph under his skin.  At least he’d die reaching his goal- pissing Hannibal off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal just shook his head, looking every part fond and exasperated.  He glanced up into Will’s eyes, a playful glint to his features, as he tugged Will’s shirt all the way off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t believe your bonfire will last out in this weather, I’m afraid.  Definitely not before the tide rushes up to shore to pull the evidence of your righteous anger into the sea, never to be seen or thought of again until it washes up on some distant shore.  I wonder, will people speculate a disaster- seeing ruined clothing and well-made italian leather loafers appear on their beaches?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will honestly couldn’t care less what these hypothetical people thought about ruined leather when Hannibal started pawing at his belt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, Hannibal, what- what exactly are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your clothing is wet and cold, Will.  You need to get out of it and warm up or risk hypothermia and frostbite to your extremities.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, right, it’ll ruin the meat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal just shot him a confused glance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose, yes, frostbitten meat isn’t something I’d partake in.  Freezer burn isn’t particularly appetizing.  I don’t see what that has to do with your current situation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There it was, trying to lull Will into a false sense of security again.  Hannibal looking picturesque with his fake sincerity shining from his eyes, that concern had to be fake and wooden lurking in the maroon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will just quirked an eyebrow back at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Hannibal succeeded in his task of ripping Will’s belt out of their designated loopholes.  He reached for the button of Will’s jeans before Will slapped his handles away and did it himself.  Soon, he was standing awkward and cold in their front entrance in just his boxers.  What had his day become?  Why was he so impulsive?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boxers too, Will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, come on, Hannibal!  I’ll go change upstairs in the bathroom and take a hot shower or something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too much heat too quickly on your cold skin can lead to adverse reactions and possible nerve death.  No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you fucking kidding me?  Can I at least change in my bedroom and lay under a blanket or two?  Would that work for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal hummed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid not, Will.  I’d rather have you in front of me, monitor anything untoward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal crossed his arms and kept his eyes trained on Will’s groin, obviously waiting for Will to take the initiative and take them off.  This man was on a next level mind game- Will couldn’t figure out his motives, what he could possibly want.  Will’s humiliation, perhaps?  Render him naked and vulnerable beyond the amount he already was?  Will wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of humility.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With vehemence, Will dropped his boxers and crossed his arms.  He stared hard and resolute at Hannibal’s face, daring the man to make eye contact- for once inviting it.  Will would meet his challenge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He saw Hannibal’s tongue poke out to wet his lip before he bit into the soft flesh, almost as though it was a mindless reaction.  Hannibal reached out and let his hands rest against Will’s ribcage, soft stroking his flank, before he abruptly disengaged and shrugged his outward clothing off.  He watched as Hannibal hung up his coat and scarf, tucking the gloves carefully into the coat’s front pocket, before the man turned and grasped Will by the hip to lead him further into the house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think warming you up in the classical sense will work quite pleasantly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That made Will pause, standing still in the middle of the hallway.  What the fuck did that mean, exactly?  The only thing leaping to the forefront of Will’s mind was Hannibal tossing him into the fire pit, laughing evilly as he stood over Will’s burning body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come along, Will,” Hannibal said, impatience coloring his tone.  He readjusted his grip on Will to instead push gently against his lower back as he led him into the living room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they entered the room he all but pushed Will onto the couch, leather kept warm by the fire, and he began to get undressed.  Will watched in wordless awe and confusion as Hannibal tugged his sweater up and off before neatly folding the clothing and setting it on a nearby chair.  Next were his shoes, tucked gently under teh chair, and socks, tucked gently into the shoes.  Finally, his pants and underwear, also neatly folded and placed with his shirt.  Will was confused and, admittedly, slightly aroused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d experimented with other men back in college, never going all the way but trying a few things like handjobs and fellatio here and there.  He had found it quite pleasant, in a stress-relieving way.  Hannibal was also, all things considered, a handsome man.  He was also built like a brick shithouse, with a perfect physique due to years of intense workout regimens and hauling dead bodies around Maryland.  Will felt his mouth go dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal turned sharply and all but prowled at him, all predatory and fixated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now then, let’s warm you up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal got onto the couch, crawling his way to Will who found himself squirming away, flustered by the attention.  His back hit the armrest and he had nowhere else to go.  A strong warm hand wrapped around his ankle and tugged, dragging him down the couch until he was all but laying under Hannibal’s crouched form, legs splayed wide with one foot planted on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal leaned forward, forearms resting on either side of Will’s head, as he gently lowered himself down and on top of Will careful not to put too much heavy weight on the man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me, Will, how did burning my belongings feel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re really going to do the therapy talk right now?,” Will blurted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Might as well make conversation and answer the question.  It’s not as though you have anywhere else to be, at the moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, fine.  It felt good, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why, exactly, did you burn my clothing, Will?,” Hannibal murmured against the shell of Will’s ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was mad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, mad.  You kidnapped me, Hannibal, and dragged me out here to fucking Norway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Originally, I was going to stab you, back in Baltimore.  Considered killing Abigail in front of you.  Hurt you like you hurt me,” Hannibal softly confessed.  “The thought didn’t make me feel good.  I would have regretted it.  I’m not a man fond of regrets.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will didn’t know how to respond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you are angry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not angry, Will.  You’re here now, with me, and that is the past.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was two weeks ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The past is the past, no matter how far away it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal carded his fingers gently through Will’s hair resting softly next to his hands.  He had moved his head from resting next to Will’s ear, instead looking down at him and attempting eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’m warm now, Hannibal.  You can get off me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nonsense, Will.  I don’t think you’re quite warm enough,”  Hannibal murmured, leaning down enough to let his lips softly brush against Will’s with each word he spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will risked a glance up and all he saw was heat, icy blue clashing with dark maroon.  Hannibal took it as the welcome it was and pressed a slow kiss against Will’s pliant mouth, a soft pressure that Will could break away from if he wanted to.  He found he didn’t want to.  A few more slow lingering kisses passed between them before Hannibal leaned back again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will tried to chase his mouth but Hannibal turned his head away, just slightly, in denial.  Will let his head flop back down with a huff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What else are you mad at me about, Will?  It certainly can’t just be the location we’re in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will pursed his lips and it was his turn to look away.  He gazed into the fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You watched me as I was sick and did nothing to help.  Made me worse.  Made me feel crazy.  Framed me for murder and made me think I killed Abigail and ate her.  Got me locked up and under the care of goddamn Frederick Chilton.  I have a lot to be mad at you for, Hannibal.  I should really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hate you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But do you?,” came the quiet question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.  No, I don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For what it’s worth, Will, I love you.  I love you so much it hurts.  When I look at you I feel my heart breaking beneath my ribcage and all I want to do is touch.  All I do is crave.  All I want is you.  You leave me breathless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care that you’ve burned my clothes, Will.  I’ll happily provide you with more of my things for you to burn.  You could burn this house down and I’d buy you a new house to burn along with it.  As long as you stay with me.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, don’t leave.  I missed you every day, regretted every day, you were locked up.  I stared at your empty chair during our allotted time and imagined you sitting across from me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When I saw you in my home, that last night, entering my kitchen.  I was in pain, covered in blood, some mine and some not, and I had a knife ready to gut you as you gutted me.  I was going to look you in the eye and embrace you as I killed you, a final goodbye.  I couldn’t do it.  To be apart from you is agony.  Your death is the only death I fear would break me.  I would die as you died on my kitchen floor,”  Hannibal ended, in a quietly passionate timber.  Will was gazing at him, stricken, and he saw the tears gathering in Hannibal’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had no words.  Nothing he could say would ever match Hannibal’s quiet profession, nothing he could utter would match that depth of feeling and honesty.  So he did what his words could not do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gently cupped Hannibal’s jaw and brought him down, lips meeting halfway, and let every ounce of affection and love in his body lift out of him and into Hannibal through their contact.  He heard a choked sound, half-sob half-moan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For what it’s worth, I love you too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal surged forward and kissed him hard and hot, tears dripping down onto Will’s cheeks, and he felt as though they were crying together.  He felt Hannibal’s fingers twine in his hair, grabbing the strands between careful fingers, before breaking away to map the contours of Will’s jaw and neck.  He let his hands roam, freely, trailing down Will’s arms and shoulders and chest.  He didn’t seem able to stop, to settle on one place, too overcome with the need to feel and assure him, Will, whoever, that they were both there together and this was real.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will wrapped his arms tight behind Hannibal’s neck, hugging the man to his body, as they lay there kissing.  He knew he was hard and he could feel Hannibal hot and heavy against him in a very similar condition.  It was too much and not enough.  Will wished he could go back to being angry, feeling that rage that ignited his bones so he could claw and hurt and scratch and fight, but all he felt was heat and love and need.  He craved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Hannibal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t know what he was pleading for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” he repeated with a broken crack to his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal began gently rocking them together, friction and sweat lending itself to an easy glide between the two of them.  Will felt suspended in time, as they held eye contact and breathed into each other’s mouths.  They were too tightly wound to kiss anymore, only focusing on the sensations of being together.  Finally, together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will felt himself tighten, impending fall from the cliff’s edge rushing up to him, and he came with a quiet shout.  His head arched back, eyes squeezed shut, as he writhed beneath Hannibal.  Hannibal shushed him gently, reclaiming his lips in a tender kiss, and continued to gently rock against him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’re warm enough for a shower now, do you agree?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will huffed out a quiet laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, yeah, let’s shower.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal gently dislodged himself and stood up, offering a hand to Will.  They both ignored the uncomfortable sticky drying sensation on their skin as they walked up to the master bedroom, hand in hand.  There were a lot of pauses, kisses pressed against various walls and laying on the stairwell, before they finally made it to the shower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal stuck out a blind hand and turned the knob, letting the water warm itself inside the shower for a moment before letting go of Will and entering the open glass door.  Will was compelled to make a quip about the ridiculousness of the shower, short spigots sticking out all over the ceiling to give the effect of warm rainfall.  The bathroom was set to an ambient light setting, low lit and welcoming.  Intimate.  Will wanted to tease and poke the bear a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is an awfully sexual shower you’ve got, Hannibal.  You’ve been showering in this thing alone for the past few weeks?  I bet you had one exactly like it back in Baltimore too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal shot him a look, unimpressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a closet nympho, I can tell.  I bet you act so prim and proper on the outside but you’re secretly a kinky horny monster, aren’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal turned to face him, leaning casually against the shower wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I also had mirrors placed above my bed back in Baltimore.  Do with that as you will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!  So you like to see yourself while you jack off?,”  Will asked, laughing, as he stepped into the shower.  “What a narcissist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was never short of willing partners, I assure you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That wiped the smile off Will’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must have been nice,” he muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you jealous that I bedded others so casually, Will, when you couldn’t even look someone in the eye long enough to invite them back home?,” he asked, now the one with the upper hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t give a shit you’ve had sex, Hannibal.  We’re both adults with adult lives and, yes, sex is a part of that.  I’ve had my fair share of… affairs too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal’s smirk dropped, a deep frown instead taking its place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jealousy hurts, don’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both regret poking the bear now, the quiet happiness starting to shift and fade quickly and away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… apologize.  It’s in bad taste to bring up past lovers.  It was rude of me.  I assure you they meant nothing.  Just physical release, nothing more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will shrugged, fiddling with the knobs of the shower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will, don’t pull away from me.  Please.  We’re finally here, together.  We seek to hurt each other with barbs and words because intimacy is an unknown.  It’s easier to rely on what makes us comfortable.  Unfortunately, for us, that is causing mutual pain.  Let us move past that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal held out his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here.  Come to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will glanced at him, deciding, weighing his words carefully, before letting go of the knobs and letting himself fall into Hannibal.  He tucked his head into the crook of Hannibal’s neck and let the warm water run over his back, washing away the hurt.  Hannibal held him, gently, running his hands along his flank and tracing vertebrae with his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never loved another as I love you, Will.  Love isn’t even a word that can accurately describe what I feel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will snorted into his collarbone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you can say that again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am trying to be honest and sweet.  Please, don’t ruin the moment by talking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will laughed, loud and bright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re such an ass.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you love me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stayed under the spray of the water for far too long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they exited the bathroom, toweled off and lights turned down throughout the house, they were warm and tired.  They fell into bed together, a tangled mess of limbs, and Will couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended.  It was perfect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abigail laughed at them in the morning at breakfast, having noticed the odd state of clothing in the doorway and folded on the chair in the living room.  She flicked pieces of egg at Will when Hannibal’s was turned and Hannibal dutifully plucked the offending pieces of food out of Will’s hair when he turned back around.  They kissed over coffee and Abigail pretended to gag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was warm, being together.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>